Author: Ashley Winstead
Published: July 14, 2026 by Minotaur Books
Format: Kindle, 336 Pages
Genre: Psychological Thriller
Blurb: Ten years ago, aspiring singer-actress Scout Sage lost the only thing that mattered: her sister, Georgia. Ever since Georgia’s mysterious death at a Hollywood party, Scout’s done her best to honor her memory, clawing her way through the industry and collecting a network of climbers along the way, fellow hot girls in stilettos with cutthroat ambition, a new Hollywood order.
But when a slew of targeted murders makes headlines across LA, all pointing to Scout as the killer, she turns overnight from a mid-tier pop star into the world’s most famous (alleged) murderer. Now everything she’s worked to build—including the justice she wants for Georgia—will fall apart unless Scout can prove she’s not guilty.
Meanwhile, the young and unusual detective assigned to her case, herself no stranger to tragedy, begins to unearth secrets not even Scout knows, let alone her millions of new fans. Particularly about the ways Georgia’s death connects to an even older pattern of crimes long hushed over in Hollywood—an old reign of terror that, if brought to light, could be the fuel that ignites a reckoning the world over.
My Opinion: From the very first pages, Hot Girl Murder Club grabbed me and said, “Settle in, we’re doing this.” And I did, though I’ll admit, those early chapters had me flipping back and forth, trying to keep track of who was connected to whom, and the reason for two timelines at once. There’s the present day, the past, and, just to keep things spicy, a PhD dissertation being defended at UCLA’s History Department running parallel to the whole thing. For a minute, I wondered if I was simply outnumbered by the cast list. But then something shifted. Either the book calmed down, or I leaned in harder, because suddenly the chaos made sense… right up until Winstead tossed in more characters and I was back to muttering, “Wait, who are you again?”
But here’s the thing: I loved it. I couldn’t put the book down. I kept sneaking pages whenever I could. Those little stolen moments throughout the day, until I could finally sit down at night and devour big, satisfying chunks. Winstead gives you the whole picture early on, or at least you think she does. You know the broad strokes of what happened. The hook isn’t what happened; it’s how they got there. And that “how” is addictive.
Then come the twists. One lands, and you think, “Ah, clever.” Then another. And then a couple more, each one nudging you upright, making you refocus, making you reconsider the entire architecture of the story. It’s that delicious “what if” territory; the kind that gets your mental gears whirring long after you’ve closed the book.
By the end, you’ll want notes. Lots of notes. Character webs, motivations, group dynamics, the whole messy tangle. And even then, you’ll spend days afterward trying to piece it all together again, replaying conversations, rethinking alliances, wondering how you missed certain tells. It’s the kind of book that lingers, not because it’s confusing, but because it’s alive in your head.
This was my second Ashley Winstead novel, the first being This Book Will Bury Me, and I dare say Hot Girl Murder Club puts the first to shame. Not because the earlier book wasn’t exceptional (it absolutely was), but because this one has that rare, days after resonance. It’s the feeling that tells you Winstead isn’t just good; she’s the kind of author who reminds psychological thriller lovers exactly why they adore this genre. The tension, the intellect, the emotional messiness, the narrative audacity- it’s all here, and it’s all done with skill and confidence.
But when a slew of targeted murders makes headlines across LA, all pointing to Scout as the killer, she turns overnight from a mid-tier pop star into the world’s most famous (alleged) murderer. Now everything she’s worked to build—including the justice she wants for Georgia—will fall apart unless Scout can prove she’s not guilty.
Meanwhile, the young and unusual detective assigned to her case, herself no stranger to tragedy, begins to unearth secrets not even Scout knows, let alone her millions of new fans. Particularly about the ways Georgia’s death connects to an even older pattern of crimes long hushed over in Hollywood—an old reign of terror that, if brought to light, could be the fuel that ignites a reckoning the world over.
My Opinion: From the very first pages, Hot Girl Murder Club grabbed me and said, “Settle in, we’re doing this.” And I did, though I’ll admit, those early chapters had me flipping back and forth, trying to keep track of who was connected to whom, and the reason for two timelines at once. There’s the present day, the past, and, just to keep things spicy, a PhD dissertation being defended at UCLA’s History Department running parallel to the whole thing. For a minute, I wondered if I was simply outnumbered by the cast list. But then something shifted. Either the book calmed down, or I leaned in harder, because suddenly the chaos made sense… right up until Winstead tossed in more characters and I was back to muttering, “Wait, who are you again?”
But here’s the thing: I loved it. I couldn’t put the book down. I kept sneaking pages whenever I could. Those little stolen moments throughout the day, until I could finally sit down at night and devour big, satisfying chunks. Winstead gives you the whole picture early on, or at least you think she does. You know the broad strokes of what happened. The hook isn’t what happened; it’s how they got there. And that “how” is addictive.
Then come the twists. One lands, and you think, “Ah, clever.” Then another. And then a couple more, each one nudging you upright, making you refocus, making you reconsider the entire architecture of the story. It’s that delicious “what if” territory; the kind that gets your mental gears whirring long after you’ve closed the book.
By the end, you’ll want notes. Lots of notes. Character webs, motivations, group dynamics, the whole messy tangle. And even then, you’ll spend days afterward trying to piece it all together again, replaying conversations, rethinking alliances, wondering how you missed certain tells. It’s the kind of book that lingers, not because it’s confusing, but because it’s alive in your head.
This was my second Ashley Winstead novel, the first being This Book Will Bury Me, and I dare say Hot Girl Murder Club puts the first to shame. Not because the earlier book wasn’t exceptional (it absolutely was), but because this one has that rare, days after resonance. It’s the feeling that tells you Winstead isn’t just good; she’s the kind of author who reminds psychological thriller lovers exactly why they adore this genre. The tension, the intellect, the emotional messiness, the narrative audacity- it’s all here, and it’s all done with skill and confidence.
